


The Sunrise over the Cape

by OncefortheFun



Series: Quinntana Week 2014 [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1547453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OncefortheFun/pseuds/OncefortheFun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Quinntana week 2014. Santana has gone missing and Quinn is determined to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in the same Universe as Remake me Over. Spoiler Alert for the "Restaurant at the End of the Universe" by Douglas Adams.

 

Quinn was on the train heading to New York, her stomach twisted in anxious knots. She needed the train to be there  _now_. Why was it taking so long? Had the train ride to New York always taken this long? Quinn didn't think she would survive the almost two hour train ride, so she pulled out her cell phone, rereading the series of text messages that had set her on this journey in the first place.

_October 14th, 2013_

**You (9:00 a.m.): How'd opening night go?**

**You (10:00 a.m.): Oh come on, Lopez. Are you still asleep? Get up!**

**You (10:05 a.m.) Are you pouting because I didn't say good morning to you first? Good Morning, Santana!**

**You (10:10 a.m.): Fine, lazy bones. Stay in bed! :-(***

**You (3:15 p.m.): Are you still in bed?**

**You (3:40 p.m.): Brittany must have really worn you out on Lesbos. ;-)**

**You (6:33 p.m.): Don't forget to stretch!**

**You (10:45 p.m.): Good Night, Santana!**

_October 15_ _th_ _, 2013_

**You (9:00 a.m.): Morning!**

**You (10:50 p.m.): Good night, Santana!**

_October 16_ _th_ _, 2013_

**You (8:45 a.m.): Morning!**

**You (11:15 p.m.): Good Night, Santana**

_October 17_ _th_ _, 2013_

**You (8:30 a.m.): Morning**

**You (9:00 a.m.): Are we ignoring each other again? Why? We didn't have sex recently, lol, so you shouldn't be.**

**You (9:12 a.m.): Were we supposed to? You were all into Brittany the last time I was home.**

**You (10:34 a.m.): Santana?**

**You (11:00 a.m.): You haven't asked me what's up with Puck.**

**You (11:00 a.m.): I let him hit it from the back. And the front, and the side. All night long!**

**You (11:01 a.m.): I gave him head in the subway.**

**You (11:02 a.m.): Really? Nothing. I'm sending you a naked pic of me right now.**

**You (12:30 p.m.): You're mad at me, aren't you?**

**You (12:30 p.m.): What'd I do?**

**You (2:30 p.m.): Please don't freeze me out again.**

**You (10:15 p.m.): Good night, Santana.**

October 18th, 2013

**You: (8:32 a.m.): Morning**

_**System Message: Error sending text. Unable to send.** _

**You: (8:33 a.m.): Morning**

_**System Message: Error sending text. Unable to send.** _

The second time she'd gotten that message she dialed Santana's number, surprised when she got the dial tone. " _The user you are trying to reach is no longer available. If you have reached this message in error, please hang up, and try your call again."_

Of course it was an error, so Quinn hung up and tried her call again. " _The user you are trying to reach is no longer available. If you have reached this message in error, please hang up, and try your call again."_ Quinn actually physically dialed the number this time, but the message was still the same.

**You (9:31 a.m.): Hey Rachel?**

**GoldBerry (9:31 a.m.): Quinn! Hey! Oh my gosh, how are you?! I missed you at the opening! You're still going to come see the show as soon as you're done with finals, right?**

**You (9:34 a.m.): Yes. Sorry I couldn't be there.**

**GoldBerry (9:35 a.m.): It's alright, Quinn! I know you were there in spirit! I got your flowers. Sorry I didn't return your texts or calls. The show has been so hectic!**

**You (9:37 a.m.): It's okay, Rach. Hey, I tried calling Santana, earlier. Is her phone disconnected?**

**GoldBerry: (9:38 a.m.): It shouldn't be. Hold on.**

**GoldBerry: (9:53 a.m.): That's odd. I got a user no longer available message.**

**You: (9:54 a.m.): Me too. Ask her why her phone isn't working?**

**You: (10:01 a.m.): Rachel?**

**You: (10:10 a.m.): Rachel, are you there?**

**GoldBerry: (10:15 a.m.): She's not here.**

**You: (10:19 a.m.): Where'd she go? When's she coming back?**

**You: (10:25 a.m.): When you say she's not there, do you mean that she's not there as in she went out, or she's not there as in**

**You: (10:26 a.m.): When's the last time you saw her?**

**GoldBerry: (10:30 a.m.) Opening night.**

**You: (10:31 a.m.): When's the last time you saw Santana?**

**LadyFaceLOLz: (10:32 a.m.): Well helllooo to you, too, Quinn!**

You grunt because when did Santana hack into your phone and change Kurt's contact information?

**You: (10:32 a.m.): It's kind of important! When?**

**LadyFaceLOLz: (10:34 a.m.): Oh Gosh, I'm not sure…Blaine has been absolutely wearing me out! It's our new workout regime! Umm…a few days ago. Why, what's up goldilocks?**

**You (10:35 a.m.): How long ago is a couple of days?**

**GoldBerry (10:35 a.m.): Quinn?**

**LadyFaceLOLz (10:36 a.m.): Erm…oh, wow, I know I saw her the morning after opening night…**

**LadyFaceLOLz (10:36 a.m.): I don't remember seeing her since…**

**LadyFaceLOLz (10:36 a.m.): I think she said that she was going to Dani's or something. I know she was saying she was going somewhere. That maybe she and Britt were planning another trip.**

Quinn's temper flared at this because honestly, how much money did they really think that an 18-year-old girl who worked in a diner actually had? When Santana mentioned that she and Brittany were going on an extended vacation to Greece, she had been doubtful. Santana didn't even have a passport as far as she knew. What was going on with her best friend, and why was no one else noticing?

She, at least, had the excuse that she was in New Haven and didn't see her all that often, but these were the people who lived with her, and she was almost fuming at Rachel because although she understood that Rachel was busy with her performance schedule, how did you just miss that you hadn't actually seen your roommate in a week?

**You (10:37 a.m.): Has no one questioned where she's getting all of this money to keep taking these extensive vacations?**

**LadyFaceLOLz (10:40 a.m.): Her mother did give her that check.**

**You (10:41): It wasn't blank. God, has no one been paying attention?**

**You (10:41 a.m.): Sorry…worried. I think something might have happened to her. Her phone's been disconnected.**

**GoldBerry (10:45 a.m.) Quinn?**

**You (10:45 a.m.): When's the last time you've seen or talked to Santana?**

**You (10:45 a.m.): When's the last time you've seen or talked to Santana?**

**You (10:45 a.m.): When's the last time you talked to Santana?**

**You (10:45 a.m.): When's the last time you've seen or talked to Santana?**

**You (10:46 a.m.): Is Santana with you?**

**DivaJones (10:47 a.m.): Hey Quinn! Ummm….Opening night. Why, what's up? What'd she do now?**

**TroutyMouth (10:50 a.m.): Quinn, my fair maiden! Rachel's performance. How are you?**

**GoldBerry (10:50 a.m.): Quinn?**

**You (10:50 a.m.): She's disappeared. Call or Text me the second you hear from her!**

**BabyDaddy (10:55 a.m.): Graduation.**

**You (11:00 a.m.): Was talking to Kurt, and Mercedes, and am waiting to hear back from Brittany, and Artie. So far no one in New York has seen or heard from her since the performance. She's your roommate, how did you not notice that she was gone?**

Quinn dialed Brittany's number. It went immediately to voicemail.

**GoldBerry (11:05 a.m.): Oh, please don't, Quinn. I feel bad okay, but you try having a balanced life and staring in a Broadway play! I can't do it all!**

**You (11:10 a.m.): One of your best friends has gone MISSING, Rachel!**

**You (11:15 a.m.): Britt…really worked about Santana. Please tell me she's with you!**

**You (11:15 a.m.): *worried.**

**GoldBerry (11:20 a.m.): Her suitcase is gone. So are most of her clothes. Some pictures. Quinn, I think she's gone.**

It was at this point that she had hopped on board the next train to New York. Something wasn't right. Sure, Santana could be dramatic from time to time, but she wouldn't just leave without telling anyone. And her phone was off. She wasn't just not answering her phone, her phone service was cut off. Quinn had a really bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that this wasn't some call for attention. And why wasn't Brittany answering? Were they together? Did something happen to the two of them? She tried calling and texting Brittany for the entire train ride, but got no response.

She hadn't yet called Mrs. Lopez, because if this was one of Santana's pranks she didn't want to get her mom involved. (And if it  _was_  that, she was seriously going to beat the shit out of Santana because  _really_?)

Quinn preferred to think that Santana was just waiting to jump out of a closet and say surprise, or something as asinine as that because the thought of it being something other than that…Quinn just couldn't bear to think about it. She and Santana had been best friends since she had moved to Lima. She had been her first friend here, her best friend, and even though they had wax and waned over the years, Santana was still the girl that she would always come home to. She may have never been Santana's first choice, but Santana was always, and would always be Quinn's.

As the train chased the afternoon towards New York, Quinn remembered the last time she had actually been physically in Santana's presence. Santana had, of course, been wrapped up in Brittany, and Brittany seemed on a bid to get Santana back, and they hadn't talked much because the last words the two of them had said to each other were mostly intangible gasps and pants and calls to higher powers, so things were kind of weird. But she had noticed then, things were…off…with Santana. Off in a way that couldn't be dismissed as simple regret for that night. She had appeared to have lost a lot of weight, and she could have sworn that Santana had been wearing a wig.

And then there were their conversations. It had been nearly two months since they had last Facetimed, and no matter what time she had talked to Santana over the phone, the girl had seemed not tired, but just plain flat out worn out. Quinn wanted it to all mean nothing. She hated the pictures that her mind created that screamed otherwise.

**GoldBerry (1:01 p.m.): Kurt's here. We'll be at the station waiting for you.**

**You (1:01 p.m.): should be pulling in shortly. I tried Brittany…still not picking up.**

**You (1:15 p.m.): Britt, please call when you see this.**

**You (1:15 p.m.): Do the others know?**

**GoldBerry (1:16 p.m.): Only as much as we do.**

**You (1:16 p.m.): Can you call Dani? Ask her if she heard from her?**

**RollnRiver (1:30 p.m.): Been in classes all day. Opening Night of** _**Funny Girl.** _ **Something up?**

**You (1:31 p.m.): Not sure. Let you know.**

**RollnRiver (1:32 p.m.): Word.**

**GoldBerry (1:45 p.m.): Spoke to Dani. Tell when you get here.**

**GoldBerry (1:46 p.m.): Called out sick for tonight.**

**GoldBerry (1:46 p.m.): Quinn…**

As soon as the train stopped, Quinn was up on her feet, and heading for the exit doors. As she made her way to the platform she realized that she hadn't thought to pack a bag before she boarded. Thankfully she had remember the essentials: money, purse, wallet, cell phone.

Rachel looked about as panicked as Quinn felt when she made her face out of the crowd. Kurt was standing by her side, his face blank as if he were reserving judgment, but his eyes gave him away.

She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "What did Dani say?" she questioned.

Rachel shook her head, indicating that she didn't want to talk here. They left the station and found a diner close by. At about the same time that they sat down Quinn realized that she hadn't eaten anything yet, but at the thought of food, she felt like she might throw up. She didn't want food, she didn't want comfort, she wanted answers. She wanted to hold Santana in her arms, and inspect every inch of her to make sure that she was okay, and then she wanted to slap her for making her worry this much.  _Why_  wasn't Brittany returning her calls?

Quinn shot Rachel a pleading look, and the expression that crossed Rachel's face had her wanting to pull her hair out. "Rach? Please just tell me? How bad is it?"

"It's…," Rachel seemed unable to figure out what to say. A speechless Rachel meant the end of the world.  _The end of the world…?_  Quinn felt her stomach churning. No, no way, it wasn't that. "They talked…I mean Dani spoke to Santana. On Wednesday. Santana called her."

 _"What did she say?"_  Quinn demanded, mere seconds away from grabbing Rachel by the collar and shaking the information out of her. Rachel had that look that said that she was doing a very poor attempt at putting her acting skills into use because her wide doe-like brown eyes were bright, as if she were trying to give off the appearance of being calm, but instead looked as if it were only a matter of minutes before the waterworks started. Rachel was brilliant on stage but had never mastered acting in real life. "Good-bye. She called her to say good-bye."

Before those words could even register with her, her phone rang in her pocket, causing her to jump a foot in the air.  _"Santana?"_  she questioned, forgetting to check the caller before she answered.

"No," the usually bubbly voice responded. "It's Brittany."

Ice seemed to invade the diner, dropping the temperature, and a chill shook her body. She suddenly felt cold all over. "Hey Britt." The greeting came out sounding strangled. Quinn was grateful when Rachel's reached out and held her hand in her own. She had to calm down. She was merely panicking, she told herself. She was letting her imagination run wild. She was making a big deal out of nothing, and Brittany was about to tell her just how much of a complete idiot she was being. Of course Santana was with her and she hadn't answered because they were  _busy._

For once the jealousy and hate that Quinn held in quiet reserve for Brittany wasn't present, and she was just held in complete appreciation for this girl, and the girl that she loved. Brittany knew what was going on, Brittany would make everything alright. For once Quinn didn't care if it was Brittany that got the girl, just as long as the girl was okay.

"I know you're worried, Quinn, and I'm sorry, but this isn't a conversation that I wanted to have. I would have texted you back, but I don't want to try to tell you any of this in a text. I don't need you to ask any questions right now, I just need you to listen. Can you do that?"

Quinn nodded, forgetting that Brittany couldn't see her. Brittany seemed to know that Quinn had though because she let out a breath. "Good." Quinn put the phone on speaker, held a finger up to her lips, and placed the phone on the table in between them. "I know you've been calling, I turned my phone off. I needed some time. Santana's not with me, and I don't know where she is, she wouldn't tell me, but she's…okay." The heaviness with which Brittany said that made it clear that she was anything but. "She just needs some time alone. She's…working through something."

"What does that mean, Britt?" Quinn demanded.

"I can't say anything else other than that she said that she'd call when it was time. I can't tell you anything more. She made me promise. "

"Brittany, what aren't you saying?"

Quinn was positive she didn't imagine the slight sob before the line went dead. Quinn instantly called Brittany back but the phone went immediately to voicemail. "She turned her phone off," Quinn said, dully. Where was Santana? Why was she doing this to them? To her? They were her friends.  _She_ was her best friend. Bonded for life.

Quinn felt a squeeze on her hand, and she looked down, remembering that Rachel was holding it. Her eyes slowly climbed until they reached Rachel's brown eyes. She didn't realize that her own eyes mirrored the glassy quality of Rachel's. "You said that she didn't clear out her stuff, right?" Quinn questioned, hopefully, grasping for whatever she could hold on to after Brittany's call.

Rachel shook her head, but it wasn't a comforting gesture. "No. She left some clothes, most of her things. She took her toothbrush."

"So she could be coming back." Rachel fidgeted. Quinn noticed, her eyes narrowing, locking in on the gesture. "What do you know that you're not saying?" Rachel winced as if Quinn were about to hit her. Quinn wondered what look she was carrying that would make Rachel think such a thing.

"She took the Glee picture, you know the one of all of us after we won nationals? And the picture of you, her, and Brittany, her family. The ones she left were just random photos: buildings, of New York, and Lima, things like that, nothing with people in it. Dani-,"

Quinn had forgotten about the conversation with Dani. Santana had called Dani to say good-bye? "Dani said that Santana called to apologize for the abrupt end to their relationship, but that she was glad that she got the chance to get to know her, and that she'd never met someone who was so…well it doesn't really matter. Quinn…you don't think that Santana's thinking about," her voice lowered to a (Berry) whisper (which wasn't that quiet at all), "committing suicide do you?"

That thought would have crept into her mind if she had heard about Dani's conversation before Brittany had called, but she quickly dismissed it. "She wouldn't do that," Quinn said with certainty.

"There was something else," Rachel said. Blearily, Quinn looked at Rachel. "Dani said that Santana said that if I called to 'tell Quinn that Santana left her watch behind'. Whatever that means, do you know what that means?"

"She said 'Quinn'?" Quinn demanded desperately. Rachel didn't know what to do with this new expression on Quinn's face. "Santana specifically said Quinn? Not Brittany, not 'her', but Quinn?"

"I repeated it verbatim the way Dani said it, and as you know I have…never mind. But I looked and didn't see a watch anywhere Quinn-"

Quinn started to laugh at the same time that tears fell down her face. How could her day be made and her world be collapsing all at the same time? Time. Both Brittany and Dani said that Santana mentioned time. It had been a message solely for Quinn, because who else would have understood it? But the reference could only mean one thing.

"I have to go," Quinn whispered, standing up. "I need a car. I have to go!"

"Go where, Quinn?" Rachel questioned.

"I think I know where Santana is. I have to see her."

"I'm coming with you," Rachel decided.

Quinn shook her head. "You can't, Rach. I promise, I'll tell you everything but I have to do this by myself, okay?"

Quinn looked at Kurt for the first time since she had sat down. Kurt had been oddly quiet this whole time, and that wasn't something that Kurt usually did. Their eyes met. He  _knew._ He might not know it all, he might only suspect, but he had put something together, and from the look in his eye he was heading toward the same conclusion that Quinn was just now reaching.

"There's an Enterprise a few blocks from here. I Googled it," Kurt said, softly, holding up his phone.

Phone! Shit Quinn had just left, she hadn't packed a bag or anything. She didn't bring her phone charger. "I need to go back to your loft."

Rachel and Kurt both looked confused, but they didn't say anything about it as the three of them made their way to Bushwick as fast as the New York traffic would allow, i.e. not fast. Quinn was anything but calm as she sat sandwiched between Kurt and Rachel in the cab. It would be dark soon, and she knew she had a drive ahead of her.

It didn't take long for Quinn to find what she knew she would: underneath Santana's bed was a packed bag hidden away. Quinn opened it just to be sure that it contained what she thought it did: Clothes. Quinn's clothes. When they first started sleeping over at the other's house they started keeping drawers at each other's home. Santana must have brought a handful of Quinn's clothes with her when she moved first to Louisville, and then to New York. Sitting on top of the neatly stacked pile, was Santana's cell phone, the charger resting right beside it.

They may have stabbed each other in the back every now and then, they may have slapped each other and done worse, but Quinn couldn't deny that they understood each other like no one else could, and at the moment Santana was trusting that Quinn understood her completely. She shouldered the bag.

Kurt found another Enterprise, and he and Rachel came with her. They each kissed her on the cheek as she got into the car, and she saw Kurt's knowing look as she pulled into New York traffic. It took an hour before she was out of the city, and heading north on I-95. Quinn longed for her iPod, but settled for the satellite radio, leaving it on the first station it landed on.

The music wasn't enough to stop her thoughts as she ate up road, heading towards the Cape.

* * *

 

_"You want to spend the night, S?"_

_"Can't. Already told Brittany I was spending the night with her."_

_"Why didn't you guys invite me?"_

_Santana shrugged, casually. "Figured you were busy."_

_"Ever since_ she _came back, you never have time for me anymore."_

_Santana hesitated, hovering. She quickly pressed her lips against Quinn's. "It's not like that."_

* * *

 

_Quinn bumped past Brittany on her way to first period. "How was your sleep over with Santana?" she said huffily._

_Brittany looked confused. "Santana didn't spend… Oh…it was great. We had so much fun!"_

* * *

 

_"Quinn?" Santana's voice was a harsh whisper, her hand soft and warm on top of Quinn's. "Baby, you have to wake up, now. There's all these people that are here, waiting for you to come back to them. You can't let Berry spend the rest of her life thinking that this is all her fault. She's Jewish, you know how much they like guilt. And the driver, he's been here every day to check on you, and he feels really bad, and he keeps saying that he has a daughter, and if you stay where you are, he'll probably become a drunk or something. Not to mention you won't see your daughter again. Puck still needs you because he still holds out hope that you two will have another baby together, and if you crush that he'll have nothing. Mercedes needs you because you're her sister from another mister, and Artie, well, I'm sure there's some reason that he needs you, too, but I can't think of anything other than that people's lives are simply better because you're in them. You can't leave your mom. She's barely hanging on as it is; she'll fly off the edge if you leave her alone._

_"And of course Britt and I need you. Especially me. Who else is okay with knowing that I find the idea of a door closing with a sense of satisfaction so hilarious that I giggle just thinking about it? Who else will I rely on to smack me down when I become too big of a bitch? Honestly, just knowing that I get to be in the same place that you do, it makes my existence Quinn. I'm holding your hand right now, can you feel it? If you forget where you are, and start to feel like you're floating away, remember that my hand's here; I'll never let you go. You ground me to Earth, Quinn. You are my lifeline so you can't go because without you I would die. Alone."_

* * *

 

At first Quinn thought that it had started raining, until running the windshield wipers didn't seem to do anything, but wiping her eyes did.

* * *

 

 _"Are you_ crying? _"_

_Santana ducked her head underneath the sheet. It was a funny sight considering it was the only part of her body that was covered. "I'm sorry," Santana mumbled._

_Quinn was instantly self-conscious, and she pulled the sheet around her. "What are you sorry about?"_

_"I'm sorry for tonight. I know I shouldn't have, but I wanted to know what it felt like, just once."_

_"You're sorry we had sex?" Quinn questioned. Santana cautiously peaked her head from beneath her pillow. She nodded._

_Quinn started to slide off the bed. "Wait, Quinnie, let me explain!"_

_"What's to explain? Sorry I was a bad lay."_

_"Shut up, Fabray! I'm sorry because I've wanted to be here with you for so, so long. God, you can't imagine, but now things will change."_

_Quinn felt that same uncomfortable feeling that she got every time she saw Santana and Brittany kiss. "It doesn't have to," she mumbled._

_Santana started crying harder. "I wish that were true, Quinn. I really, really do."_

* * *

 

Time kept pace with her as she drove. She sun was starting to set, and Quinn looked at it praying that she was wrong about this.

* * *

 

_Santana played with the chains on the swing. "What are you reading?"_

_Lucy showed her the cover of the book._ "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe," she answered shyly. She wasn't used to people paying her attention. Usually their eyes just traveled over her, or looked through her.

 _Santana smiled at her. "Have you read_ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?"

_Lucy nodded eagerly. "I've read all of them! This is my third time reading this."_

_"You know what always kind of blew my mind about that book? What I thought was brilliant?" Santana questioned. Lucy shook her head. "No, what?"_

_"It's called the restaurant at the end of the universe, so you think that it's like the last planet in the universe, but then you find out that it's not about a place at all."_

* * *

 

The drive to her aunt's place in New Bedford was somehow the shortest and longest drive Quinn had ever made. The whole way she kept hoping that she was wrong about this, that the conclusion that her mind made up was the wrong one. She felt like she should have called Mrs. Lopez, confirmed what she did or did not believe, but that almost seemed like cheating. Santana had laid down breadcrumbs for Santana to absorb, it would have been wrong to just go grab a loaf from the store.

So this whole time Quinn had been operating on an idea, but it was such a completely unfathomable idea that just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, and made her want to turn the car around. But she couldn't. She had started out on this journey, and she had to finish it. She owed her friend that, at least, and if, if it turned out she was wrong, then the only thing that it would have cost her was a missed day. For one of the few times in her life, Quinn was really hoping that she was wrong.

The last thread of hope Quinn had been clinging to, went crashing to the ground when she pulled to a stop at her aunt's cabin and she saw a car parked on the side. Quinn sat in her own car for a long, hard, minute, before she forced herself from it. Out in the fresh air, Quinn felt suddenly overwhelmed by everything, the sounds, the smells, the way the grass made it seem like the very house was floating on water. It was easy to pretend that they were at the end of the world, here, and Quinn was sharply reminded that the end wasn't a place, but a time. It was time.

The car could have belonged to anyone, but the moment Quinn stepped out into the air, it was like she could feel Santana, she could hear her heart beating in between the birdsong, taste her in the breeze that blew up to greet her, smell her. Santana had always been the orbit that Quinn had been drawn into, and today was no different.

She walked around the side of the house to the back, where the earth disappeared into the water. Quinn had taken Santana here. Twice. The summer after her freshman year, and the summer after they had graduated from high school. It was Quinn's place. It was deeded to her when her mother's sister had died, and a trust paid for the upkeep. It wasn't an expensive piece of real-estate. It was an unimpressive house, a cottage really, in the middle of marsh grass and nowhere, that had snakes, and rats, and mosquitoes as their closest neighbors. But, and Santana agreed, every minor annoyance was worth it, for the view from the back porch.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Santana questioned. Quinn's heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. Quinn had never figured out how a voice could be sexy, angelic, acidic, and vulnerable all at the same time. "The sunset?"

"It is," Quinn replied. She realized the sound was coming from the lounger, but she didn't want to move any closer, scared of what she would find when she got there. She found herself unable not to move closer to it, closer to her.

"I told Brittany to tell you that I didn't want any company," Santana scolded.

"She did," Quinn said, stepping closer.

"You didn't listen."

"Did you think that I would?"

Santana exhaled a sigh that seemed to be half amusement, half irritation, but all tired. "No, Quinnie. I knew you'd be here to help me watch the sun rise over the cape at the end of the world. Do you remember what I said, the last time you and I were here?"

Quinn brushed away a tear, and nodded. She was now directly parallel to the lounge chair, but she didn't turn. "You said that this place was the most peaceful place you've ever been to, and that if you had the choice, this is where you'd come-," Quinn didn't finish the rest of the statement.

"Did Brittany tell you?"

Quinn shook her head. "No. The entire drive I was praying that I'd be wrong, that I'd come here, and it'd be just as abandoned as it was when we snuck up here that summer."

Quinn was thrown off by Santana's chuckle. The sound sounded so inappropriate given the situation. "You weren't wrong," Santana said. Her aloofness sent fire through Quinn, and she glared at Santana, and froze.

"Don't panic," Santana said, almost as it were a challenge. That fierce stubborn pride that Santana had carried around with her through the years was still there, she was still Santana, only she wasn't, not at all. She wasn't wearing one of her scandalously inappropriately short, body hugging dresses that clung to every inch of her delicious body and you couldn't help think about doing anything but running your hand along the curves so obviously on display. No, she was dressed simply in a plain white-cotton blouse, and khaki-linen pants, the latter of which was partially covered by the thick blanket that covered her legs. The clothes didn't cling to anything, either, they swallowed her whole. Even her chest was deflated.

Her sensuous, olive colored skin was waxy, clammy looking. The eyes that stared back at Quinn weren't the soft, warm, chocolate brown ones that she used to believe she could stare into forever. They weren't covered by the fake eyelashes that Santana never seemed to be without. They didn't burn with a fire that was translated by a tongue so sharp it could easily cut down even the most confident person. The eyes that stared at her were sunken in, and pleading. They were vulnerable.

 _I was right about the wig,_  Quinn thought grimly, as her eyes moved to where Santana's thick, dark, wavy locks should have been, but instead was replaced with a bandanna that rested underneath a wide brimmed white and blue sun hat that did nothing to cover up the fact that the bandanna and the hat lay too flat against her head.

"It's gone," Santana stated, noticing where Quinn's eyes had rested. "When it started to fall out, I donated it to Locks of Love. I figured someone would appreciate the irony."

Quinn nodded, not yet finished looking. Santana's eyes stayed trained on Quinn's face, while Quinn continued to take inventory. God she was so thin. So, so very thin. This was Santana, her Santana, lying in front of her, a mere ghost of what she was.

The final thing that Quinn's eyes took in was the silver IV stand that stood at the side of the lounge.

Santana swallowed. "Say something, Quinn." Quinn's eyes flickered back to Santana's, watching as her chest moved in and out with each breath.

"What happened to your breasts?" It was the most asinine thing to say given the circumstances, but she blurted it out without thinking.

Santana was laughing and crying at the same time. "I had the implants removed," she explained. "I kept dreaming that it happened, and you would just see these mounds, perky and upright while the rest of me was,"

Quinn must have let something show on her face, because Santana's ghost of a smile was instantly gone. Her mouth snapped shut.

"Why?" Quinn questioned.

Santana rolled her eyes, a tear falling in the process. "God, you don't know how many times I've asked myself that.  _Why me?_ As if someone else deserved," she waved her hand, "This. No one does, and I'm not so much of a bitch as to wish it on someone else, either. It's good that it's me. I've made peace with this."

Quinn shook her head fiercely because she really didn't want to hear that. How could Santana make peace with something that Quinn hadn't known about? This was worse than Brittany. At least when Santana was with Brittany, she was still around. Quinn felt the ground spinning beneath her. She didn't want to be here, but she knew she couldn't be anywhere else. "No, not that. Why are you  _here_? Why are you here  _alone_? Why did you turn off your cell phone? Why didn't you tell Brittany where you were going? Why, Santana?"

"Why?" Santana repeated, her voice sounding bitter. "I've been wasting away for months! I left the loft on Sunday morning, and it's taken until Friday afternoon for anyone to notice!"

"I noticed!"

"What took you so long to get here then?"

"It's not like you haven't shut me out before, Santana! We've gone months without talking before!"

Santana nodded in acknowledgement. "I figured that the roomies would have at least noticed, though, but I guess Rachel's been busy with Broadway, and Kurt's been busy with not me. It's a good thing I wasn't lying in some dark alleyway or being tortured off in some room, waiting for salvation."

"Don't say that," Quinn said, fiercely. She was thoroughly  _pissed_ at both Rachel and Kurt, but she didn't want Santana to think that they didn't actually care about her. "They care about you, but you did a very good job of shutting everyone out. You shut me out."

For the first time, Santana hung her head, embarrassed. "I know. I thought I was brilliant. Push any one who could get close to me as far away as possible. But then I got dragged into that damned Glee Club, and I started to care if people cared about me, and Berry made hella sure that she found a place in my life. I kept expecting her to realize what was going on, she can be awfully damned persistent when she wants to be, but she didn't. I was eternally grateful that she got distracted with that play."

Santana looked back at Quinn. "Aren't you going to sit down, Q? I know your back must be killing you. I swear I don't bite."

Santana made room for her on the lounge, and Quinn tried very hard not to notice just how little space Santana actually took up. Quinn shook her head.

"You scared of sitting with me?" Santana questioned. It was a challenge that was said with her usual bravado, but Quinn could hear the hurt in her voice, could see it reverberating in her eyes.

Again Quinn shook her head. "I want to be able to still look at you," she replied. Santana got the same curious look on her face that she had flashed her when Quinn had said that she enjoyed slow dancing with her at Mr. Schue's wedding. She smiled, brightly, and Quinn's heart broke because the smile still belonged to Santana, and for once it wasn't directed at Brittany.

Santana patted the space beside her. "I promise you can stare all you want later."

This time Quinn obeyed, sitting down beside Santana. She kicked off her shoes before wrapping the blanket around the both of them. "You're cold," Quinn noted.

"I'm always cold," Santana returned.

Quinn hesitated before she pulled Santana in her arms, as if she was maybe trespassing in territory that she didn't belong, but Santana didn't object. To Quinn's delight, she fell back against her, cuddling into her side and borrowing her warmth. Her head rested on Quinn's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Quinn." Santana said. "I thought I could do this all on my own, but I couldn't."

"Why would you think you should have to?"

"I just wanted to protect you. I'm a disaster."

"You're perfect."

"Look at me, Quinn."

Quinn did. "You're perfect," she repeated, and she sealed it with a kiss. Santana pulled back in surprise after only a few seconds, but she was smiling. "Why would you think that I wouldn't want to go through this with you?"

Santana shrugged. "You try to protect the ones that you love."

Quinn nodded, vigorously. "Then you should have let me try to protect you," Quinn returned. And that simply they had finally admitted something that they hadn't their entire time of knowing each other. It really wasn't fair that she finally got to be this close to Santana, when Santana was wasting away.

Santana gently nudged Quinn's chin, until Quinn looked up. "If you have questions, just ask them instead of mulling over them in your mind. I need to hear your voice. We've spent too much time in silence."

"Lesbos?"

Santana gave a small laugh. "That was a lie. Brittany figured that it sounded Brittany enough that no one would challenge it, like they would if, say, she just said we were going to Italy or something." That was pretty smart of her, because no one  _had_  challenged it. "Lesbos was just a lie so that I could disappear for a few months without anyone noticing."

"Where were you really?"

"Vanderbilt. I was in the hospital. They wanted to try a more extreme form of treatment. It was a last ditch effort."

"When'd you find out?"

"Summer of freshman year. Before we came here. That's why I was so keen to get away. The doctors told me I had about two years." She laughed. "I asked them if I had to give up cheerleading. They said as long as I felt strong enough, I didn't. I didn't have too many problems for most of the time."

"How much does Brittany know?"

"She knows I'm dying." Quinn flinched at the words. "She knows I've been sick. She knew that I spent some weekends in Dayton in high school, but she didn't know that I was telling you that I was sleeping over her house until you found out."

"Louisville?"

"Treatment center in Cincinnati. Brittany knew. She knew I was getting worse. We, I broke up with her because I knew how much of a strain the illness was causing her."

"How long were you two together?"

"From senior year until then.  _Landslide_  was about me dealing with the cancer, but when Rachel called it out for being some Sapphic expression, I just went with it. Brittany and I have been having sex since freshman year, but things didn't get intense between us for a long time. I didn't want it to, but Brittany wouldn't let me let it go."

"Mr. Schuester's wedding?"

"Best night of my life," Santana said earnestly. She twisted so that she could look at Quinn. "I have loved you since I was 13 years old. I didn't know it at the time, but I saw my life in your eyes when I first saw you. If life were different, if I didn't have this sickness in me, I would have made you my girl a long time ago. I, I thought you felt this way towards me that summer, but then you pulled away once school started, so I thought maybe I was seeing something that wasn't really there. I tried to ignore how I felt about you, but every now and then it would creep up, and I'd catch myself staring at you without realizing it, or I'd be anxious without knowing why, and then I'd hear your voice, and that's all it would take for me to calm down."

Quinn's stomach twisted in a knot. "How much time?"

Santana chewed on her lip. "Less than a month, I was told. No more than two."

"They were wrong in high school."

Santana coughed. "They're not wrong now," she said, softly. "I can feel it. I'm tired."

Quinn held her close. "Are you scared?"

"You wouldn't believe how scared I am." Santana lifted one of the arms around her enough so she could kiss it. "But having you here, makes it so much easier."

"When can I tell the Glee kids?"

Santana sighed. "Once I'm gone."

"You're not alone, San."

"Will they even want to see me?"

"Of course they will," Quinn said. "They love you."

"Quinn?"

"Yea?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Santana."

Santana shook her head. "I mean like really, really love you. Like there's no one else on this earth that I love more than you."

"I've never loved anyone other than you," Quinn replied.

When night thoroughly covered them, Quinn helped Santana up. Quinn was surprised that Santana wasn't staying in the master, but in the bedroom that the two of them had shared both times they'd come. Santana hesitated beside the bed, and Quinn wondered if it was because she didn't want Quinn to be in the same bed with her. "I…is it okay if  _I_  hold  _you_?" she finally questioned. Quinn smiled, and in response, shifted towards the center of the bed. Santana crawled in behind her, a thin arm resting across Quinn's abdomen. She smiled when she felt a kiss pressed to her neck, before she felt Santana cuddle into her.

They were awakened when the nurse arrived. Quinn stood by, trying to fade into the walls, until the nurse turned to her. "Are you going to be around?"

Santana looked at Quinn, and Quinn turned to look at her. "I am," Quinn declared.

"Well, then, you should know what I'm doing, and what you can do to help."

So then the nurse showed Quinn what to do. How best to bathe her, showed her how to massage her muscles, made up a routine for Quinn to follow. The nurse came two times a day, in the mornings, and in the afternoons. Santana had a medic alert band in case something happened in the night, but it was made clear that Santana wasn't going through treatment. Nurse Palmer was a hospice nurse. Santana was through with surgeries and medications, she was here to die.

On one afternoon after Nurse Palmer left, Santana turned to Quinn with a bright smile. "It will make you happy to know, Q, that I'm famous. I'm actually in medical books because it's so rare for someone my age to have my illness."

Quinn didn't ask what she had, because she didn't want a name to the faceless illness that was taking her best friend and lover away from her, and Santana didn't offer that information to her. She guessed correctly, that it was something that inhibited her motor functions. "I guess there's always that," Quinn mumbled.

Their days fell into a routine. After the nurse left, Quinn fixed breakfast, and helped Santana dress, and they would eat on the back porch. They didn't move much from the porch for most of the day, actually. Santana never tired of looking over the water as they talked about anything and everything, and even when it got cold to the point that she shouldn't go outside, Santana still wanted to be on the porch. They talked. They talked about everything. They talked about the first time they knew that they were in love with the other. They talked about old routines. They talked about Santana fixing up a car with her father. They talked about their families, even Russell.

"I hated your dad from the first day that I met him," Santana admitted. "I wanted to slap him for standing there, looking down on me, and I was so, so mad, but when I saw you, it all disappeared."

They colored together. Quinn drew, and Santana shaded, and Santana made jokes about Quinn's old obsession with Rachel Berry's anatomy, and convinced Quinn to make an erotic cartoon strip of which Santana spent hours coloring in the vagina.

Santana sang. Santana sang for hours, song after song, and when she had finally stopped, Quinn picked it up because she thought it was a shame for the music to end. They held hands, and kissed, and spent useless hours just staring into each other's eyes. They made love, and fell asleep in each other's arms, and woke up with the sun beaming down on them.

"I could get lost in your eyes," Santana greeted Quinn when she woke up to find her staring at her. Quinn could only smile because she already had.

Maribel and Antonio came on the weekends. It was the only time that Quinn was aware of the passage of time, because there wasn't a single clock in the entire house, and if it weren't for their visits, she would have thought that they were living in one continuous day.

"I love you," Santana said, when her parents were gone. Quinn had lost track of how many times those three words had been exchanged between the two of them, but her heart warmed every time she heard the words again.

Sue and Schuester came together, because sometimes they did that, and they still refused to admit that they were actually friends. Sue told Santana that she still expected her to take over for her one day, and Schuester sang her a lullaby which Santana surprisingly didn't roll her eyes at. Even more surprising, she asked him to rap  _Rapper's_   _Delight_ , and sat through it with a straight face. Santana asked if she could have one of his sweater vests, and she wore it over her clothes for a whole day.

The Glee kids came. Not all at the same time. Mike visited the day before Halloween. Tina the week after. Sugar showed up two weeks before Thanksgiving. Marley put in an appearance, and because she came, she brought Jake and Ryder. Coincidentally, Matt and Lauren both made a visit the same weekend.

The New York crew: Rachel, Mercedes, Artie, Sam, Brittany, Blaine, and Kurt drove down together, and they made it a thing. Despite the date, it wasn't too cold, so they barbecued, and ate it in the living room. They did what they did whenever they came together: they sang, they danced, they one-upped each other, and they reminisced. Before they even made the trip, Quinn prepared them for what they would see, and no one made a comment about the illness while they were there. Santana sat on the couch, wrapped in her blankets, and smiled the whole day. She even sang once. And if her voice was off, or pitchy, no one (but Berry) made a comment, and when she had to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon, it just got quieter, but not strained. Brittany stayed for a few days after, and Quinn let the two of them have their time together.

The doctors were wrong. Two months passed, and Santana's heart was still beating beside hers. Quinn was beginning to feel like they existed in this bubble. Santana wasn't getting any better, but she wasn't getting any worse, and Quinn thought that if they could just stay suspended here for a couple of years, she'd be just fine with that. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

The times when Santana needed Quinn to help stand her up, or to help her walk were getting more, and Santana began to lose all her independence. It seemed that her condition worsened as autumn made way to winter. Santana didn't talk as much, and Quinn learned to have short hand conversations with her. They still talked for hours, but in an abbreviated fashion, with Quinn doing the majority of the talking, and Santana responding non-verbally. Her  _I love you's_ were always spoken, even if it was the only thing she said for hours.

They had a crowd at Christmas. It was a surprise to both of them. Two days before, Santana's doctor came to visit her. To take her temperature, to check her vitals, to look at her throat and ears. To feel the muscles in her legs, arms, and back. He gave the two of them a smile before he left, and Quinn was just amazed that he had come out here so close to Christmas. Two days later the cabin was filled with people. Mr. and Mrs. Lopez arrived with a Christmas tree and trimmings, Mrs. Fabray showed up sober and with their friends from Glee. Mercedes and Sam, Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, Brittany. Puck and Jake. Dani and Eliot.

The fire place was lit, poinsettias and Christmas Lilies covered every surface, and there was caroling. It was nice having the cabin filled completely, to have voices echoing from the rooms, bringing in a warmth that a fire couldn't create. There wasn't enough space for everyone, but no one left, or attempted to make other accommodations. It was the best Christmas Quinn could ever remember having. Quinn gave Santana some gloves she had been knitting, and a leather bound copy of the  _Complete Works of Douglas Adams_. Santana had gotten Brittany to go out and buy Quinn a pocket watch engraved with the words ' _Don't Panic'._  Brittany got Santana two hats, Rachel the  _Dream Girls_  Soundtrack, Blaine gave her a box full of bow ties and some scissors. Quinn almost cried over how happy Santana was to throw the pieces of the bow ties in the fire, her eyes lighting up happily every time one burned.

She really did cry two and a half hours later when they were in the middle of watching  _Beaches_  because Santana thought it was a beautiful movie, and before it was even turned on she had turned to every single person in the room, and smiled as she made eye contact and said, "its okay…to cry. I…do."

Puck stood up and cuddled the side of Santana that Quinn wasn't covering. No one noticed when Santana fell asleep, but when Hillary started to get sick, Quinn realized that Santana was out to the world, so she picked her up and carried her to their bed. She seemed colder than usual, so Quinn wrapped her securely in her arms, and ended up falling asleep with her. When she woke up, it was to whispers coming from the living room. She knew that the whispers were about Santana, about her condition, but Quinn shut them out, snuggling closer to Santana. The words didn't matter, the only thing that mattered right now was this moment. They still had time.

Christmas fell into New Years' and some people left, but some stayed. Santana fell asleep before midnight, and Quinn couldn't wake her up long enough to count down, so she whispered 'Happy New Years' into Santana's ear at 12:00 a.m., and kissed her on the forehead, before going out into the living room to drink champagne with her friends. Rachel and Brittany held her while she cried.

By the 2nd, everyone, even the Lopezes were gone, and it was just the two of them again. "Are we alone?" Santana questioned, surprised. She apparently had waken up and noticed that it was quiet. Quinn nodded. "Luv you, Quin…nie."

Quinn kissed her, and her heart nearly broke at the effort Santana made to try to kiss her back. "Love you, too."

It was hard for her to breathe, sometimes, and Quinn was woken up one night to the sound of Santana gasping for air.

The lights hurt her eyes every now and then, so she spent hours in the bed with her eyes closed. Kurt had brought her a teddy bear at Christmas, and Quinn always made sure that she had something to hold whenever she had to leave her for even a few minutes.

She got scared when she woke in the middle of the night, so they slept with the lights on and their hands linked together.

Santana couldn't hold a spoon in her hand, so Quinn fed her all her meals.

Quinn wasn't sure what day it was, but she knew that the Lopezes were scheduled to arrive in a day or two, the day that Santana asked Quinn to take her outside again. Since the weather had gotten bitterly cold, they hadn't been back to the deck, but Santana insisted. Quinn bundled her up in practically every piece of clothing she owned, and sadly, she could. She took two blankets, and the kerosene lamp, and they sat outside for the rest of the day, and even into the night because they had never seen the stars shine so brightly, and Santana didn't want to go back inside.

As the sky was lightening, Santana stirred in Quinn's arms interrupting the song that Quinn had been singing.

"What is it, baby?" Quinn asked quietly. "Do you want some water?"

"Will you…tell me…a story?" Santana's voice came out labored, and it took her a full minute to say just that one sentence.

"Of course, baby," Quinn said. She had to think about it, but once the words started they didn't stop. "Once upon a time there was this beautiful, beautiful princess who could light the world ablaze with her smile, and calm any storm with her laugh. Her voice would bring the angels from the sky, just so that they could listen to her song. One day the princess got really, really sick, and everyone became worried, and it made the entire kingdom sad.

"The king sent for one of his bravest knights and he gave her a quest. Now this knight loved the princess very much and would do anything to make her well again. So the knight went searching far and wide until she found a magic river that restored the health to anyone who drank from its banks. The knight rushed back to the Kingdom, and took the princess to a magical spot on the Sound where the Princess could live and forever drink from the river, and be well, and where they could watch the sun rise over the water, together, for forever, and ever."

Her words ended just as the sun seemed to make its grand appearance, turning the black water of the Cape clear blue, and chasing away the shadows of the night before. Birds announced that they had woken up from their slumbers, animals stretched and begun to move around, crickets chirped, Quinn tightened her arms around Santana, and one lonely heart beat to the same rhythm of the watch that ticked silently away in Quinn's pocket, each tick reminding her don't panic _._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just wrote this last night to work through my apparent writer's block on my other stories. I don't know how far I'll take this, or if I'll post another chapter, the words just sort of came out, so I went with it.**

* * *

**You (6:40 a.m.): It's time.**

_"Why here?" Quinn wondered as the car came to a stop. Santana got out of the car without answering. Quinn watched after her for a heartbeat before undoing her own seat belt and getting out of the car. Santana was waiting for her right outside the door, leaning against her vehicle, staring off into the distance. Quinn felt like she should feel a sense of ownership about this place, but she didn't. She hadn't liked either her aunt or this cabin when she was living, and she hadn't liked it when she was dead either. It wasn't the kind of place that you went vacationing to. It was a struggle to have anything. Water didn't effortlessly come out of the tap, you couldn't just hop into the lake and go for a swim, the mosquitoes swarmed the place, and everything, from crickets to turtles made their home around the place._

_A bug landed on her arm, attracted by the sweat. "Seriously, Santana, we could have gone anywhere in the entire country, and you chose this place?"_

_Santana looked sideways at Quinn, her eyes falling on the bug that was on her arm. Without warning she snapped her arm out, trapping the creature against Quinn's skin, and picking it up without somehow crushing his body. Santana opened her hand, and blew on it, watching the insect fly away. "It's just alive here, Q. Can't you feel it?" she questioned, wistfully. She didn't sound like the Santana others knew. She didn't even sound like the Santana that she new. "In the cities and the suburbs, it's kind of easy to forget that we're not the only ones who cling to life. This place has a heartbeat!"_

_Santana lifted Quinn's hand up, and placed it on top of her chest. "Do you feel it?"_

_Quinn's own heart started beating uncontrollably at the feel of Santana's chest beneath her hand; she couldn't help it. Being around Santana simply did that to her and always had. She never used words like hot or attractive to describe Santana because to her, the words just didn't fit. Quinn's attraction to Santana had absolutely nothing to do with her physical appearance. Yes, she was aware of how Santana looked, she knew that her body was desirable, and her face was incomparable. But that wasn't what held Quinn's infatuation. Her attraction stemmed from her 13 year old self, the less than perfect Quinn that had fallen for the perfect-to-her Santana. That Quinn had never thought of Santana as anything other than it. Whatever it was, her friend was that, and no one else ever compared. Quinn could be blind, and still be astounded by her beauty. She could be deaf, and her heart would still race at the sound of her voice. She could be mute, and still be at a loss of words when Santana came around._

_Quinn swallowed hard, trying to maintain her breathing with Santana this close to her. As always it seemed like a losing battle. How Santana didn't know how crazy about her she was, Quinn couldn't figure out, because she always had one of two reactions: either she went straight to bitch mode, or she was unable to say a word. At the very moment she was struggling to not completely spaz out, because she could smell her. Underneath the smell of their combined sweat, she could smell her shampoo and body wash, and something that was kind of clinical. Strange. But her._

_In that very moment she understood, and it made her sad because she was ruined. Flat out, wholeheartedly ruined because it was just confirmation of what she had learned a long time ago: she was ruined for love because the only person who would ever make her feel this way was Santana. In her head she could just hear all of the ghastly, morbid poems that would stem from a life time of unrequited love. Oh Poe and Dickinson, how she understood you so much better!_

_In Quinn's silence, Santana drew her hand back, sucking in her lip, and Quinn almost cried from the combined loss of connection, and for the look on Santana's face, as if she feared that Quinn thought of her as a freak. She wanted to tell her, she so wanted to tell her that, yes, she got it, because although this place had never meant much to her, here in this moment it meant everything. Quinn had learned, after all, how precious life was. No longer was she, nor would she ever be so negligent of such things. No longer would air be allowed to move in and out of her body without her lungs reminding her, 'you're alive', without her mind being in appreciation of the sweetness of that taste, without her heart charting the rhythm of existence because she had known what it felt like to not know what air tasted like. She had closed her eyes and had not known if they would ever open for her again. She had run through fields of wheat and grass in her head, without knowing if she would ever be able to do so with her body again._

_You don't know, you can't truly fathom how much something absolutely means, until it is gone, because while it's in front of you, while you can still hold it, or even still ignore it, while it's still real, you never have to wonder what it would mean if it's gone. And in the event that you are the type to worry about said things, you think about it in a 'what if' kind a way, not with absolute certainty. No, absolutes only existed when things can no longer be quantifiable, when they can no longer add up, and things stop being able to add up only once they no longer exist._

_So yes, she understood; she got it. She got why someone would want to buy a house here, why someone would want to be here, why this day had dawned on just the two of them, and even why people fell in love and gave their hearts over so willingly to someone who wouldn't take care of it, and cherish it the way they yearned for them to do. Because even the feeling of heartache, of want, of need, meant that you were still alive to desire such things. Desire, in and of itself, meant that you were conscious. Quinn was alive, and she was here, and for a whole week, seven days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes Quinn would have Santana's complete attention; for a whopping 604,800 seconds Quinn could pretend that Santana was all hers and belonged to no one else._

_Faced without those staggeringly beautiful numbers, she did what any sane person would do: she kissed her best friend, who stared back at her in shock. And maybe Quinn imagined it, but for a brief second, right before a smirk appeared on Santana's face, and she made some sarcastic comment, Quinn was sure that she saw every ounce of her love for Santana reflected back in Santana's eyes, and she had never felt more alive._

_Santana loved to watch the sun rise. Never had Quinn known her friend to be a morning person; Quinn always figured Santana to have the same relationship with mornings that she had with the color pink. But out here, every day she wanted to watch the sunrise. She was too lazy to get up in the mornings to do so, however, so they spent the night in the boat, crammed it with pillows and blankets so it would be comfortable, bathed in insect repellent so they could pretend that they weren't being eaten alive, and they would spend the night in the boat. This meant two things: they had to hold in their pee until the sun had set in the sky, and that Quinn got to sleep with Santana every night._

_They slept in between the seats, in a way that wasn't entirely comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable. For Quinn, it was actually Nirvana. There was no way that they couldn't not touch, and once they were both asleep, they snuggled into each other. Quinn couldn't just fall into sleep with Santana so close to her, lest she waste a precious second or two, so for an hour or more each night, she lay awake while Santana lay sleeping, practically in her arms, and in her mind she composed the words to describe how she felt. Phrases like: 'Beneath a sky freckled with stars, her heart beats steady, as I breathe her in. Her movements fill my lungs with life, and in return, I breathe her out' and 'we float in that endless space, where sky meets water, and water meets sky, eternally reflecting off one another, until both parties intertwine, and there's no separation between either cosmos nor earth, nor me and her,' become her nightly lullabies._

_Quinn discovers eternity. She wakes up dreaming, to a Santana that is surprisingly calm, but whispers urgently, "I have to pee," but not before the sun is sufficiently up. They don't cook in the morning, but set out a feast the night before, and descend on it after they row back to shore, like the stars Prince Caspian encountered on his journey to the end of the world. They hold hands, and kiss good morning, and kiss goodnight, and don't talk about it, because of course this place, this time, this them, doesn't actually exist in the real world. They've discovered a world of their own. One where Quinn's not insecure, and Santana doesn't do feelings, because although nothing is said about it, they do nothing but feel in this space._

_There's no TV, just books. Since they only seem to want to read the same book at the same time, they read to each other. There's no magazines just chess, and checkers, and Mancala, and Scrabble, and Backgammon. They play competitive games, but get bored taking score. Quinn checks Santana's king, but Santana insists she didn't mean to make the wrong move three moves ago, so they put the pieces back on the board, and the next time Santana wins. Quinn lands on Santana's hotel invested Park Place property in Monopoly, but Quinn's broke, so Santana allows her to take a loan out from the bank so that she doesn't get bankrupted. There's no gossip, just conversations. Not necessarily about anything important, just about anything. They either sit across from one another so they can see each other, or right next to each other, so they can feel each other. Quinn thinks of it as a tether. There's an invisible force between them, that doesn't want them to separate. Quinn feels relief when she gets up to go to the bathroom, because then, then she's finally alone, yet it's the only real time that she seeks to be away from Santana, and the same is true for the other girl._

_When they pack up to leave, it really is like waking from a dream. They get in a fight over belongings, and Santana's grumpy because she hasn't slept enough, and Quinn snaps at her because it's expected. Quinn is a frigid bitch, and Santana is an uncaring ass, but they both pause before they get in car, the way you do in an early morning, when the dream that you've been dreaming is so good that you tighten your eyes, and bury yourself in the covers, to pretend for a little longer that awake hasn't already claimed you. In that pause, one of you, maybe both of you, surge for each other, not kissing so much as trying to squeeze two souls into each other, so they never have to learn what it feels like to be apart. Who knows how long the kiss last, how long they were able to put off waking up, but when they separate, Santana to Kentucky, and Quinn to Yale, they don't talk about the summer. If it wasn't for the Jesus necklace that Santana never takes off, or the heart shaped necklace that has now replaced it on Quinn's neck, it might have just been one beautiful dream._

* * *

Quinn listened to the sound of the watch ticking away. The text message she sent out felt as cold and as distant as the body in her arms. She was still alive, but Quinn new that Santana had just watched the last sunrise of her life.  _It's time_. The simple revelation that she had been making over and over again, since the day that Quinn called and found out that Santana's phone was off. She sent out a mass text to everybody on her phone list: she didn't care if they knew Santana or not. She didn't check to see if anyone responded. She didn't know if anyone would show up, she only knew two things…she wanted Santana to be surrounded by as much love as possible, and she couldn't handle this alone.

The first person to show up, unsurprisingly, was Brittany. Quinn heard it, when her call pulled up, heard her moving through her cabin, heard her doing something inside, and when she came out onto the porch, Quinn turned, and the two of them looked at each other, shared a look and a lifetime. Brittany was the closest; of course she was here first. Quinn smiled at the feeling of resentment that bubbled in her, not because it had any true basis, or if it was felt, but because it was normal. It was something to hold on to.

Brittany was the first to break the gaze. She strode over to their side, and kneeled down on Santana's right. She picked up her hand, and held it briefly to her face. Quinn couldn't see her, didn't know if Santana had opened her eyes or not, couldn't feel a change in her breath, only the too weak exhales of breath that came from her friend and lover. "I'm here, sweetie," Brittany said, and Quinn bristled at the term of endearment only out of continuity. She was otherwise deeply grateful that the girl was here.

Brittany closed her eyes, holding Santana's hand to her cheek, whispering something so softly there was no hope of understanding what it was. Brittany didn't move from her position, just turned to Quinn. "I lit a fire in the fire place," she said. "If you want to go inside."

Quinn gave a slight nod. Brittany had to help her carry Santana inside. The loss of mobility, that had been tough for her. Santana had always been fiercely independent, and even though it was Quinn who had been caring for her, she knew that it was still tough for Santana to acquiesce to.

Brittany had even so thoughtfully made up a pallet for Santana, close enough to the fireplace to be warmed by the flames, but far enough away to not be burned by them. They gently sat Santana down on the pallet, and while Brittany was laying down beside her, Quinn temporary took the time to use the restroom, and to grab some water. Santana turned towards her when she reentered the room and made the sign that they had come up with that meant 'hurts'. Quinn whimpered because there wasn't anything that she could really do about it. She had been prescribed pills for pain, but Quinn didn't trust that she wouldn't choke on them. It happened before, and Santana had ended up coughing for a half hour afterwards.

"I know it hurts, baby," Quinn said softly, her lips pressed to her ear to make sure that Santana could hear her. "It won't for much longer."

Quinn was proud of how steady her voice remained, even though, inside, she was tearing out her hair. Quinn started to massage the muscles the way she had been taught. It wouldn't do much, but it would do something. On her other side, Brittany traced a finger up and down Santana's arm. Inexplicably the young woman started to sing  _100 bottles of beer on the wall_.

Quinn scowled for the first three dozen bottles, and wanted to slap Brittany, do something to make her shut up, but she didn't. Mindlessly, she joined in, but it wasn't until after Brittany broke 50 that she realized that she had never gotten that far down on the bottle list. Santana had probably never had either. And then she understood.

Sam understood, too, or maybe he just understood his ex-girlfriend, because when he came through the door, while they were at 23, he just joined in, no questions asked. Anticipation rose in Quinn the closer they got to one. Certainly something had to happen afterwards. That was the whole point, right? She just didn't know what, because she had never kept interest in the song for that long, but now here they were, in the tens, and she could feel her heart rate quickening. Five bottles of beer left to go. 4…3…Santana showed that she was still with them, because she tapped twice when they were at two, once when they were at one, and together the four of them finished the song, equally expectant, only to realize that the only thing happened when you got down to the very end was nothing, it just ended.

Quinn didn't blame Brittany, when she jumped up after the expectant quiet, and ran from the room and didn't return for a couple of minutes. She  _was_  surprised when Sam didn't follow her, and mildly shocked when Sam slid his hand over Santana's. He kissed her twice, once on the forehead, once on the cheek. "Hey Santana, it's Sam…Trouty Mouth. Did I ever tell you thank you?"

"For what?" Quinn wondered.

The answer came back into the room, eyes dry and giving a weak smile. "I know you didn't do it for me, but thank you."

He didn't let go of her hand, but he surrendered her right side back to Brittany, who lay down between Santana and Sam, resting her head on Sam's arm. They heard a car and someone on the door. "I actually liked your song. You never did sing that second verse," Sam whispered. Quinn's eyes looked up and caught Tina walking through the door, closely followed by Matt. How the two ended up coming together was anyone's guess yet here they were.

Tina must have caught what Sam said because she immediately started singing. "Trouty Mouth….Guppie Lips…I would give the world up…just for your kiss. They say that God has the world…cupped into his hands… but I'm sure with lips so big, hey you could make the Holy dance…Trouty Mouth."

Laughter rang out, surprising and clear, all around the room. Quinn shouldn't be laughing, but damn that girl. It wasn't really a bad song. Not the way she sang it. She was so clever in her insults, as if they weren't spur of the moment throwaways like they seemed, but like she had sat down and thought them through, which meant that she had sat down, and thought about them. Every one of them.

Like Brittany, and Sam, Matt brought his cheek down to Santana's hand. "Hey, mamacita." His voice dropped to speak an endearment Quinn had never heard anyone else ever bestow on Santana. "I'm here, little Ann." Matt, Mr. dumb jock, had moved away to a district where their football team didn't actually suck, and he was currently playing football for the Florida State Seminoles, who were playing for a National Championship in a few days. He also was maintaining a 3.8 in computer science there. He and Santana kept in touch over the years, and any time someone had remembered to wonder how he was doing, Santana always piped up the answer.

He wrapped his arms very gently around her waist, resting his head on her stomach. When a few more people showed up they did a "Ride wit' me" reprisal just as enthusiastically as they did sophomore year. Mike and Matt even danced. Sue came in on the tail end of it, and threatened to shave off Porcelain's hair.

Each new arrival brought something with them. Something someone wanted to share. Some memory of something that Santana had done for them, even though they hadn't realized that she had done it at the time. Something that had never been finished, or some first that had never begun. Puck brought the party. It was funny, in a way. None of them were over the age of 21, Santana's parents, Quinn's mom, and Sue and Schue were in the room, but that didn't matter at all. It didn't stop that they drank and played party games. How Puck was able to get off of post, no one questioned. That he was there, however, was no surprise. That he would break down as soon as Santana passed, that was inevitable. Quinn just wasn't sure who would be there to keep him from breaking her house. She also didn't know if she wanted any one to try.

Quinn was surprised by Rachel's appearance. If there was anyone she didn't expect to show, was her. Finn had been dead for less than a year. Thinking about it, though, it made sense that she was here, that they were all here, actually. Finn's death was sudden, unexpected, they were hit with the news without preparation. Santana…they all had time to prepare. They had time to make peace with it. They could do for her, what they couldn't do for him: make sure she didn't die alone.

Like with Christmas, it was one of the best days that Quinn can remember having. The house was filled with warmth, and laughter, and the only part of it that was terrible, was the reason they were all here: Santana was leaving them. Quinn hadn't expected so many people to come back to help her say good-bye, but the sight would have had her eyes filled with tears, if she hadn't already resolved that she wouldn't cry. Not as long as her love was still breathing in her arms. She would save the grief and the sorrow for after, when she no longer had Santana. As for a girl who always wondered if she was ever truly liked or even loved, what better way to leave this earth then surrounded by people who so enthusiastically answered, 'Yes, you were'. And in case she wasn't aware of their presence, Quinn made sure to press her lips into Santana's palm several times, so that she understood she wasn't alone.

As selfish as Quinn wanted to be, she couldn't. Both she and Brittany surrendered their positions beside, around, or underneath Santana as the need arose. They unquestionably surrendered their hold completely so Mr. and Mrs. Lopez could hold their daughter to them, and everyone left the room for them to have a moment that would have felt obscene to intrude upon. Before she left, Quinn whispered that she'd be right back to her lover, and Santana showed that she recognized their parents in the way her fingers twitched at their touch.

The sun had been up for hours, but when Quinn went out to the back porch, it was still cold, and frigid, but still beautiful. Still calm. Still peaceful. She heard footsteps behind her, and just waited for the person to make their presence known. Judging by the smallness of the hand that pressed into her back, she understood that it was Rachel. Without hesitation, she gathered the girl into her arms. They didn't say anything to each other. There wasn't anything to be said. Quinn hadn't been there when Finn died. She didn't know how Rachel reacted to it. She just imagines that it was bad.

Mercedes was the last one to show up. She came barreling in, nearly panicked, worried that she'd be too late. Like almost everyone else, she pressed her face to Santana's hand. As she kneeled down, her reason for her tardiness was shown clutched in her hand: Breadstix. Sam heated the bread up for her in the microwave. "Do you smell that, baby?" Quinn questioned when the food was brought back out. "Mercedes got you a bread stick from Breadstix." Even though water had barely even touched Santana's lips all day, the tiniest piece of bread was placed carefully on her tongue, and people laughed when it sounded like she moaned. Once they were sure that the bread had gone down her throat, Mercedes broke out  _River Deep, Mountain High_ , and Tina covered Santana's part the same way Kurt had covered Finn's.

Quinn brought her lips to Santana's ear. She had been keeping up a running commentary all during the day even though Quinn didn't even know if she could still hear her. "Do you hear them, baby? I still think you and her sang that best. We're all here now, honey. I know you're tired, and I know you're hurting, and if you need to go now, you can." Somehow, Quinn's voice remained even. "I love you so much. We all do." She listed every one who was here. She was aware of a few eyes on her, and one set of ears, Brittany's, but she didn't care. "I'll be here, as long as you need me. Do you feel those arms around you? They're mine."

Santana tapped on her hand, drawing her attention. "Yes, baby?" she whispered.

"Lo..," and a tap in her palm meaning 'you'.

Quinn fought back a tear. "I love you, too. Always."

Someone had gotten out a projector and them at Nationals played on the wall opposite the fireplace.  _  
_

_They must have just gotten off stage, because Santana's face is flushed, and sweaty, and she's grinning broadly, a post-adrenaline high. She smiles, sideways."Top that!" she crows._

There's laughter from the person holding the camera, and Quinn meets Brittany's eyes because she knows who had to be holding it. _"What're you doing, Britt?"_

_"Santana Lopez, you just gave the performance of a lifetime, what are you going to do next?"_

_Santana stops moving, and looks dead center in the camera. "I'm going to Disney World!"_

_"How do you feel?"_

_Santana's grin broadens. "Like, I don't know, like I can do anything! I didn't even know if I was going to be strong enough to make the competition, but I did, and it was great. Weren't we really good out there? Rachel was just amazing. That had to be her best performance I've seen, and I saw that woman, Tibbideux, in the audience. If she doesn't get into Nyada after that, than they just don't deserve her."_

Quinn eye's momentarily left the screen, to look at the shocked look on Rachel's face.  _"Finn! I think that song was perfect for his voice, and he actually nailed the dance moves! So nice job Brittany, and Mike, and booty class! Or was it boot camp? Mercedes was just incredible. Mr. Schue seriously under utilizes her so much, and did you see she's got moves? You were great, as always. You don't need me to tell you, and Quinn!"_

The look on Santana's face as she spoke was one that Quinn had only been privy to see very recently. It was a look of love. " _I love listening to her sing. I could do it forever. She was so brave, getting out there so soon! She's such a fighter."_

Quinn blushed, and didn't look away from the wall. " _Tina, I hope once we're gone next year, she gets the chance to truly shine because her voice is just as good as Berry's, but when do we ever get the chance to hear it?" Santana just sighs, post high. "Everyone did good. I was so proud of how we came together! I mean, how could anyone beat that!"_

_"You guys quit making out back there! The judges are back!"_

_Santana rolled her eyes at the camera._ Quinn looked over at Puck. His fists were balled at his side.

_Santana's face lit up, and she giggled. Not laughed, giggled. "Come on, Britt!"_

_"Okay, wait, wait, before you go Ms. Lopez. Is there anything you would like to say to your fellow Glee club members?"_

Santana's smile faded in and out. It was there one second, and then gone. You could tell that she was riding the high from the presumed win, but was dreading the idea of a future that she knew she wasn't going to be there for. _"Umm…I wasn't even supposed to have this year. The doctor's said that it was unlikely that I would last this long, but look at me: two national titles, and one for cheer leading! I'm sorry I was not the warm, fuzzy friend that everyone wants to be around; I'm kind of a bitch. I have my reasons, I mean, don't we all? Anyway, umm…Glee has been one of the best things ever in my life, other than knowing B and Quinn." Very seriously Santana stared at the camera. "No one's going to see this before I die, right?"_

It was funny only because it was so Santana. She was like Snape asking Dumbledore to never reveal the best part of him.  _"I promise," Brittany is heard saying._

 _Santana gave another one of those sad smiles. "Well, then,"_ Santana looked up, fanning her eyes. " _This is…all I get. I'm not going to graduate from college, I won't get married or know what it feels like to hold my child in my arms. I always worried that there was something that I was going to miss, but you guys made life worth living. Um…thank you all, for giving me the chance to know you. I wouldn't change a minute of any of it, with any of you. I'm sorry if you can't say the same thing for me."_

There's the shortest pause, both on the video and in the room.

 _"Don't be stupid, San, we all love you."_ Eyes were everywhere, down cast, looking toward Santana, looking off and away. It settled in on the people that hadn't worked it out already, that Santana didn't just fall sick, that she was sick for the past several years.

_"Alright, so enough with this." Santana smiled again, bouncing on spot. "Let's go hear that we won!"_

The feed ended. " _We do all love you, San,"_ Quinn whispered into Santana's ear.

Quinn swears that she felt it when it happened. One second, she was whole. She was an entire person, an entire soul, the next, half of her had disappeared, vanished, and she gasped because it was suddenly so hard to breathe, and blinked from the shock of it, and wrapped her arms around her body because of the sudden loss of warmth. If she believed in spirits she would have sworn that Santana appeared before her briefly, whole, and healthy, with a smirk and an eye-roll, but with eyes that stared at her in love. If she believed in magic, she would have sworn that the watch had burned in her pocket, and Quinn had to resist every urge to pull it out, to see what time it was.

She doesn't know if anyone else felt it, but Antonio, who was having a nothing conversation with Judy, while he was holding his wife, looked over to where she and Quinn were. Maybe it was because of her gasp. "Mija?" he questioned, tentatively. Brokenly. "Cielo?"

Somehow his voice cut through the entire conversation, and people all looked in their direction. He got off of the couch, put his stethoscope to his ears and listened for a sound that was simply no longer there. Mrs. Lopez shot a questioning look at Santana's dad. He gave one stiff nod. Quinn very gently laid Santana down, found her feet, and was out the door, just as the first wail hit her ears. She couldn't run fast enough to get away from that sound.


End file.
